We drove up and the boys were all a-chatter while I parked the car. I had to keep them from running too fast to the building ("We have to be careful, guys. There's ice!). They barged into the building ready to go. I told the guy at the front desk that I had 2 boys for gymnastics, and he told them to go ahead and take off their coats and shoes and join the group while I filled out the paperwork. I watched them put their stuff on a chair and move towards the group before I turned to write their names on a form.
And then I heard a scared little Teancom voice say, "Mom. I don't feel good."
I turned and looked at him. He hadn't made it further than 5 feet from me. He looked like he was going to puke at any moment. I recognized this Teancom. He's the one who wouldn't join the Halloween party. The one who was terrified to go to Kindergarten. The one who wouldn't get out of my arms for the first 4 years of his life. He's now a 7-year-old boy with deep anxiety about doing new things.
I tried to reason with him, encourage him, and hug him into joining the group, but I knew it was useless. He was paralyzed with fear. The first line out of my mouth, an overly optimistic, "But Teancom, you've been so excited about this," prompted him to tear up. There's no reasoning with anxiety like that.
I turned back to the man at the front desk and said said, "I guess I'm only signing up one boy." He said we could give Tank a week to get used to it, and he could join next week. Teancom objected to this, but I thought it sounded reasonable. I also knew that if Teancom refused to participate, we could probably talk them into transferring the money to Elijah's "account." I'm a rational optimist.
Teancom and I sat on a chair, watching Elijah while he warmed up and then started doing the drills. Elijah, for his part, was adorable. He ran over to us twice to make sure Teancom was okay, and to ask if Tank would come out and play. I assured him that Teancom was fine, and that he would join next week. Then I spent an hour with a teary-eyed little boy, trying to convince him that he really did want to join next week.
I thought Teancom's comments about the kids participating were interesting. A representative sampling:
"That girl is really good. I can't do what she's doing."
"That girl just fell down. I don't want to fall down."
"What are they doing now? What will they do with that equipment over there?"
Later when Rob asked why Teancom didn't participate, I said, "Because he's scared of people, new things, and, most of all, failure." Teancom is a perfectionist. He HATES to fail. I tried to give Tank my best, kindest pep talks about how failing makes us better people, about how if we never do new things, we'll never know if we like those things.
I wanted him to know that I wouldn't force him to do something he didn't want to do. I wasn't trying to get him to participate just to make him uncomfortable. I just knew that he really did want to do this. I said, "Teancom, what if gymnastics is the most fun thing you've ever done in your life? I mean, maybe it won't be. Maybe you'll hate it. I don't know. But what IF? What if it's the most fun you've ever had? And what if you missed it because you weren't brave enough to try?"
So, through a combination of pep talks, bribery (he'll get ice cream if he participates each week), guilt ("I've already paid for 3 weeks for you"), and becoming more comfortable with the newness, he calmed down and agreed to try it out. He told Rob on the phone that night, "I didn't do gymnastics today because I was scared. But I'm going to do it for the next 3 weeks."
Crossing my fingers and saying a little prayer that he really will do it.
Going back to the moment when I heard that scared little voice and saw that terrified face. I instantly thought, "Tamra, you should have seen this coming." He's come a long way, Teancom has, but he still battles that anxiety demon. I wonder if he always will.
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